Lady of Storms
by Whisper292
Summary: In this ongling serial, which is a revamp of Soulless, follows the adventures of Amelia Degarmo as she works as a mercenary and tries to discover why she's being assisted by a mysterious supernatural influence. Warning: contains spoilers for ESO's Daggerfall Covenant questline.
1. LOS 1 - Assassination Plot

Lady of Storms One

Assassination Plot

Abject terror. That was the first and last thing she remembered. She had been taken out of her bedroll by several masked thugs and rendered unconscious with some kind of spell. When she awoke, she was stripped of her armor and weapons, bound on an altar, and a high elf was standing over her with a blade, chanting. She didn't even have time to scream before the blade came down and she blacked out.

Amelia Degarmo opened her eyes in her own bed, and if not for the fact that she was wearing someone else's armor, she might have thought the mage and the altar had just been a terrible dream. Well, the armor and the pain in her chest. Just over her heart was a puncture wound the size of a dagger's tip, not deep enough to kill her, but significant nonetheless. How in the name of the Divines had she survived that, and how had she gotten back here?

"What a week I'm having," Amelia muttered to herself.

"Well, well," said a masculine voice. "Look who's finally awake."

She looked up to see a man standing in her bedroom doorway, one she knew well. Jakarn—thief, spy, sometimes lover, and good friend—stood there, flipping a coin in the air and smiling at her. She often favored elves—except for the snarling Altmer who had stuck a dagger in her chest, of course—or more elvish Bretons; but Jakarn was drop-dead gorgeous, with silky dark hair, big blue eyes, and a baby face. And oh, did he know it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. "What am _I_ doing here?"

"Kaleen pulled you out of the ocean, and I brought you home and stuck around to make sure you were all right. I was starting to wonder; that was a couple of days ago. And hey, get this: you were glowing."

"What? What do you mean, I was glowing?"

"You had this pale, yellow aura around you. Somebody or something was looking out for you, probably to keep you from drowning."

"You know I don't believe you, right?"

An injured expression crossed his face. "Aw, Red, would I lie to you?"

"Absolutely. You said Kaleen saved me? Are you serious?" Amelia and the captain of the _Spearhead_ had history, and not a pleasant one. She had helped the captain recover a powerful artifact some months back, and Kaleen had wanted to use it for the benefit of the Daggerfall Covenant. But the artifact was dangerous and already responsible for many deaths. It was best if it was destroyed, and Amelia had done so, but her decision hadn't set well with Kaleen. The captain had unceremoniously kicked Amelia off her ship.

"You may not get along, but that doesn't mean she wants you dead," said Jakarn.

"But how did I get in the ocean?"

"No idea. Well, now that you're okay, I have somewhere I have to be."

"Just like that?"

"_Are_ you okay?"

That was Jakarn; he never stayed in one place longer than absolutely necessary. Unless he thought he was going to get laid, and he probably figured Amelia wasn't in the mood, having just awakened from being stabbed in the chest.

She shrugged. "I'm okay, considering. You go, love. I'll be all right."

Jakarn walked into the room, sat down on the bed, and placed a kiss on her forehead. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

"No, I don't. I never know where to find you; you always just sort of show up."

With a chuckle, he said, "No way, I'm a changed man! I'm a dedicated crewman on the _Spearhead_ now."

"Aye, until Kaleen kicks you off the ship. Thanks for watching over me, Jakarn."

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay awhile?"

He might of offered, but Amelia could tell by his tone of voice that he was itching to go. He'd sat still for a couple of days, much longer than he liked. "No, I'm fine. Hungry, but fine."

"Then, I'll see you soon, my dear." He kissed her on the mouth this time, just a quick peck, and then he left the apartment.

Amelia got up and went to find some food. She shared the top floor of a tailor's shop with Kireina Skaarsgard, a soft-spoken Nord and her dearest friend. Kireina wasn't home; she was probably out on some quest. It was what they did. There were mercenaries and spent a lot of time doing "odd jobs" for the people of High Rock. Sometimes they adventured together, but Amelia had been alone when she was taken.

She ate some bread, cheese, a handful of grapes, and drank a glass of wine, then went back to her bedroom and stood before the mirror. She was short, even for a Breton, with blue eyes and red hair which she kept cut in a bob and usually tucked behind her ears to reveal the earrings which she collected obsessively. Men had told her she was beautiful, but she had always thought her cheeks were too soft. They gave her a pixieish look and made her look younger than she was. Today, she was pale, and her eyes were puffy. She would have thought several days of sleep would have rested her enough to alleviate the puffiness. Someone had placed a couple of rough stitches in the wound on her chest, and though it was sore, it was healing. She picked up a comb and ran it through her hair but groaned. "Oh, screw it," she said, and plopped down on the bed.

She needed rest, she was sure of it; but as she lay there, Amelia realized she wasn't the least bit tired. Maybe she should have asked Jakarn to stay for a while, because when she closed her eyes, she could see the Altmer standing over her, dagger in hand, ready to pierce her heart. Gods, no. It was time to get up. She climbed out of bed, dug into her stash of gold, and headed toward the market to replace her weapons and good armor. The armor she was wearing was cute, but it showed a lot of skin. If she kept it—which she might, because it fit nicely—it would need a lot of enchantments to protect her.

Once she was properly armed and armored, she would find work. Anything, just so long as she didn't have to sit in her room alone and think.

* * *

><p>Amelia spent the next few weeks alone; she heard Kireina was doing a job that took her all the way to the Alik'r Desert, and she missed her friend. After what had happened, she could have used the company. She did a few jobs and trained a lot, keeping herself busy and glad for any distraction she could find.<p>

One morning when she was out and about, Giblets the dog ran up to her. He was a mixed-breed with brown fur and a constantly wagging tail. He belonged to a man named Roy, whom she had run a few interesting errands for in the past. He was a nice guy, affable and generally unassuming, but Amelia got the idea from the jobs he sent her on that he knew a lot more about the inner workings of Daggerfall than he let on.

"Hi, Giblets!" she cooed, scratching the pup behind the ears.

Giblets whined and ducked his head, his tail tucked between his legs, very uncharacteristic for the friendly mutt.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He whined again and turned to slink away, but then turned back and keened at her. He did it a couple of times, and she realized he wanted her to follow.

"All right, I'm coming."

He led her through town, stopping every now and then to sniff something on the trail, finally coming to the pond next to the mill. He sloshed into the shallow water and stopped at a small hillock toward the back, where Amelia found what he wanted her to see. It was Roy, lying dead in a pool of blood.

"Oh, no," she groaned as she knelt to examine the body. He had died of stab wounds, and recently. He didn't have much on him, just a dagger, a coin purse, and a damp shopping list—and an odd one at that. It called for three blood oranges from the grocer, a crescent-emblem cloak from the tailor, and black roses with thorns from the florist. She had never even heard of blood oranges and black roses.

Before she could say, "What an odd shopping list," a man wearing dark leather armor and wielding two daggers leapt out from behind a sickly looking vine in the back corner of the pond and advanced on her.

"What in the void?" she cried, dodging a swipe from one of the daggers and quickly drawing her own swords. She wasn't fast enough, though, and he stabbed her in the shoulder, in the only spot the Argonian armor left exposed. It was a shallow cut, but it stung. She rolled out of the way before he could get another shot in, centered herself, and swung with her blade, catching him in the chest as well. Her swords were longer than his daggers and he was unable to dart in and strike at her, but he was still quick and she had a time taking him down. She finally delivered a devastating jab to his side and he collapsed dead in the water.

Amelia looked up to see Giblets cowering in a corner. "Come on, boy," she said, kneeling before him and rubbing his head and back soothingly. "Let's go find a town guard and tell him what happened."

She told the first guard she saw about Roy and her assailant; and after asking her a few questions, he let her go and went to examine the crime scene. He didn't seem interested in the shopping list, but Amelia was curious, so she took it to the florist's kiosk in the marketplace.

The florist, who she thought was named Diane, smiled when she approached. "Good morning," she said. "Can I interest you in a posy to gain a sweetheart's favor perhaps?"

"Not today. I was thinking of black roses with thorns."

Diane's eyes widened as she noticed the cut on Amelia's chest. "What happened?"

"I found a body in the pond by the mill. You probably know him; he owns the dog, Giblets. He was carrying this list." She handed her the list.

The florist sighed. "Oh, that's a pity. Poor Roy, looks like he finally got himself killed."

"And almost me. I was attacked near his body, I assume by the same man who killed him."

"Are you all right?"

Amelia shrugged. "Just a scratch, really. Believe me, I've had worse. Thanks for your help."

"Be careful. I'd hate for Roy's fate to befall you."

From the florist, she went to the grocer, who was sorting vegetables at his stand. Amelia knew Christoph Lamont a bit better than the florist because she and Kireina frequented his establishment. "Good morning, Red," said the blond Breton when she stepped up. "What can I get for you today?"

"How about three blood oranges?"

Christoph looked all around and then leaned in close. He whispered, "Why would you ask about that?"

"I found a list on a dead body."

"That's a phrase from the King's Intelligence Network. It means somebody is going to get killed. Look, you didn't hear this from me. I don't want any trouble."

"I understand, but trouble seems to have found me."

"I don't know anything else. Just leave me be. Ask Roy; sounds like something he'd be interested in."

"Roy's dead."

"Oh, sweet Mara. Listen, Roy was a friend; I trusted him. But I don't really know you, and I _don't_ trust you."

"Come on, Christoph. I need some help here."

"I can't help you, Red. I'm just a simple grocer. People talk, and I listen. Then I talk to my friends, like Roy."

"And yet you understood a coded message from the King's Intelligence Network."

"Look, I've told you what I can. What you do with that information is up to you."

Amelia sighed. "Thanks, Christoph. I'll leave you alone now."

"Hey, Red?" he said, catching her arm as she turned away. "Be careful, you hear?"

"You too. Thanks again. Come on, Giblets."

But the dog didn't move. He lay down at Christoph's feet.

"I'll take care of him," the grocer said.

She left the marketplace, stopping on the way to the tailor's and pressing gently on the wound to assess whether it needed stitches or not. It wasn't deep enough to worry about it, so she just left it. Damn Argonian armor. The leather jack left part of her chest and shoulder exposed, but before today she had never taken a blow to the area. It was a small spot, more of an embellishment than a chink—so it hadn't concerned her before today. Besides, the cuirass looked good on her. She knew it was shallow, that she should be more interested in protection than appearance, but she was a bit vain—she couldn't help it. Maybe she would have to reconsider that.

Amelia headed up the hill to the Winvale's Winsome Loom, which was by the south gate. Kareem Winvale didn't have a kiosk; he was inside, and his store always smelled like freshly washed cotton. He was her landlord, and she knew him well. He was a nice guy, and he didn't harp about the rent being late when both she and Kireina were away on a job. He knew they were good for it. When she walked into the shop, he looked up from his chair behind the counter, where he sat working on an embroidery pattern.

"Did you finally decide to let me make that green silk dress for you?"

"Kareem, I told you I don't wear dresses."

"More's the pity. What can I get for you?"

"I was looking for a cloak with a crescent emblem."

"I'm afraid those aren't for sale," he said cautiously.

"Really? Because I found a shopping list on a dead man."

"Dead man?"

Amelia nodded. "His name was Roy."

With a sigh, he said, "I knew him. Well, I'm sorry he's dead, but I'm not surprised. Roy had a way of finding trouble. I liked Roy. He was good to Daggerfall's merchants. In exchange, we gave him information. He never told me as much, but I'm sure he worked for King Casimir. Have you reported the crime?"

"I talked to a city guard."

"Go to Captain Aresin. He usually patrols the wall between the Mages Guild and the castle."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Kareem."

"Come back if you change your mind about the dress. And for Divines' sake, be careful."

"Aye, people keep telling me that."

She had never spoken to Captain Aresin, but she knew who he was. He was a sweet-faced man in his mid-thirties, with a shaven head, warm green eyes, and adorable, slightly pointed ears. She made her way to the wall behind the Mages' Guild, but before she could reach him, another assailant darted out from a dark corner. Amelia stepped out of the way and brought an elbow to his head when he lunged by, then yanked the dagger out of his hand and threw it. He drew a second dagger, but instead of stabbing at her, he turned it around and hit her with it. She reeled from the blow to her temple, and for just a moment she thought she was about to feel another blade piercing her skin.

But he didn't stab her. He just grabbed her by the hair and growled, "Stop meddling in our affairs." Then he disappeared back into the shadows.

"Whose affairs!" she shouted after him. Shaken, she took a moment to clear her head and then went up the stairs to find the captain.

He was easy to pick out as he stood on the wall with a handful of guards. His armor was more elaborate than the others', and well, he was pretty. She walked up and said his name, and when he looked at her, a small smile crossed his lips. "Welcome to Daggerfall," he said coolly.

"Actually, I live here, but thanks. I was told to come see you."

He furrowed a brow and studied her critically. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"I was assaulted at the bottom of the stairs."

The captain reached out and gingerly touched what would probably turn out to be a nasty bruise to her temple, an act that was too personal for a stranger, but Amelia found she didn't mind. He turned to one of his guards. "Healing potion," he barked, and the guard went to a nearby crate and produced a red vial. He brought it to Amelia, who gulped it down. The pain started to ease up right away.

"Now," said Aresin. "What happened?"

"I have information from Roy."

"Roy? Why did he send a stranger in his place?"

"He's dead." She handed him the note. "You might want to see this."

"Mara's hands!" he muttered as read the shopping list. "How did you come across this?"

"His dog led me to him. Roy was murdered; the killer attacked me too."

"You were injured in the fight?"

She pointed to the shallow gash in her chest, which was also fading thanks to the potion. "This was earlier. I killed that one, although the one down the stairs got away from me. I told one of the town guards about the murder, but I haven't had a chance to tell anybody about—" She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "Sorry. It just now happened and my adrenaline is . . . I'm not used to getting attacked in my own city, especially twice in one day. I can handle myself, I swear."

"I'm sure you can. Take time to catch your breath." He waited while Amelia bent over and put her hands on her knees, gasping for air. When she stood to full height again, he said, "Did you know the guard you told about the murder? I'll have to get ahold of him."

"I don't know his name, I'm sorry."

"What's your name?"

"Amelia Degarmo. Or you can call me Red. Half of Daggerfall calls me Red."

"Amelia," he said with a smile. "I need to find out who's behind this."

"The one who hit me told me to stay out of their affairs. Makes me want to learn more too. The florist told me it meant somebody was going to die. It's an assassination plot, isn't it?"

"Indeed. I just don't know who the target is. Talk to Grenna at the Rosy Lion Inn. Tell her what happened and see if she knows anything; then report back to me."

"I know Grenna."

"Good. And Amelia, don't try anything funny. I'm asking for your help because you're already involved and for some crazy reason I want to trust you, but if I find out you're in any way responsible, I'll cut you down."

"Fair enough. I'll go see Grenna."

Amelia and Kireina had spent enough time at the Rosy Lion to know most of its regular patrons, and she wasn't all that fond of Grenna gra-Kush. The orc was outspoken, rude, and could be downright hostile when the mood struck her, which was often. Amelia wasn't in the mood to deal with a temperamental Orsimer today, but she didn't have a choice so she steeled herself and went to the inn. She found Grenna in her regular spot, a table by the cooking fire, and sat down across the table from her.

"I'm busy!" Grenna snarled. "Can't you see I'm drinking here?"

"Captain Aresin sent me."

"And? Why are we talking?"

"Roy's dead," she said quietly, leaning across the table. "He uncovered an assassination plot and got murdered for it."

"Mauloch's toenails, he stepped in a viper's nest this time, didn't he? One of the snakes is upstairs, talking about somebody getting killed for meddling, but I thought he was just blustering. His name's Laveque. Maybe you can get him to talk. Rattle his cage, but don't kill him. We might need him later."

"Will do."

"And don't mention me! I'm not an agent of the crown; I'm just an orc having a drink."

"Understood." As she ascended the stairs, Amelia had to wonder: did this make _her_ an agent of the crown? If so, she wondered if she'd get paid. She was a mercenary after all, but she'd never taken a job for a royal before.

It was quiet upstairs, too quiet. She drew her swords on the landing midway up to the second floor.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she came face-to-face with a terrified, yellow-haired Breton. "Oh, no!" he cried. "I've been discovered. Don't let her get me!"

Again, an assassin stepped from the shadows. Amelia was ready for this one, and she met her head-on. She parried the ever-present dagger and pierced the killer's heart with one thrust. "I'm getting really tired of this!" she grumbled angrily. She glared at the man. "Laveque, I assume?"

He squealed like a little girl and ran up the stairs to the third floor, and Amelia pursued him. There was really nowhere to run up there, and she cornered him easily. "Surely you don't believe I had anything to do with that, do you?" he stammered as he cowered before her.

"Are you joking? You said, 'Don't let her get me,' and I was attacked! But I'll let you live if you give me some information."

He stood up and straightened his tunic. "Agreed. Martine Lerineaux hired me."

"That was a little too easy," she murmured dubiously.

He nodded at her swords. "I'm no fighter. More like a coward. I know when to give in."

"Fine. What did Lerineaux hire you for?"

"I'm a mason. Lerineaux wanted me to make him a map of Daggerfall's tunnels."

"What tunnels?"

"The secret ones that lead to the castle. Most cities have tunnel systems under them in addition to the sewers. Bolt holes and such."

"Good to know."

"But I don't know what he's planning, I swear."

"Well, what in Oblivion do you think he's planning, you idiot? Somebody doesn't ask for a map of secret tunnels so he can enjoy the local color. You stay here, you understand? Don't even try to leave the inn, or I'll sic the orc on you and she will eat you for lunch."

She left Leveque and went back to Grenna.

"I thought I heard some noise upstairs. Did you kill him?"

"The bitch who tried to kill me is dead, but I left Leveque alive. I did tell him you might not be so kind if he tried to leave the inn. He said he gave Martine Lerineaux information about secret tunnels leading to the castle."

"Martine Lerineaux? He lives right next door. Go search his house and see if you turn up any evidence. He's a merchant; he should be at his shop right now."

"I'm off, then."

"I'll stay here and keep an eye on Leveque, so take anything you find to Captain Aresin."

Amelia went behind Lerineaux's house, picked the lock on the back door, and slipped inside. The manor was lushly furnished and meticulously clean, but it was cold. Not just the temperature—it was the residence of someone who cared only about how the house looked, not about making it a home. And standing before the unused fireplace was another man in the same armor as her attackers. He didn't hear her come in, though, and she was able to sneak up behind him and cut his throat. She wasn't so lucky with the one at the top of the stairs, whom she had a hairy fight with. Finally sending him dead to the floor below, she made her way to a sitting area, where she found Martine Lerineaux himself.

"Kill the intruder!" he cried, lunging for her.

Lerineaux was less experienced than his thugs, and he died without much of a fight. When he fell, Amelia turned quickly, ready for the next assailant, but there was none. With a sigh of relief, she began to look around the house.

In an office, she found a letter to Lerineaux from someone named Verrik. Apparently, a group called the Bloodthorns, led by someone named Angof, intended to assassinate King Casimir. They were smuggling the killer in on a ship and were set to strike at nightfall. She left Lerineaux's house and went to Captain Aresin.

"You look a bit worse for wear," he noted when she met him atop the wall. Only then did she realize she was covered with blood. She must have terrified the townspeople she had passed.

"This city is crawling with Bloodthorns, and they're all trying to kill me. None of this blood is mine; I'm afraid I'm building up a pile of dead assassins. Oh, and Martine Larineaux. He was working with them to map out the tunnels under the city."

"Bloodthorns? Are you sure?" She handed him Verrik's letter, and he scowled at her. "Most of the royal family is secure, but his lordship is brave and stubborn. He refuses to leave the throne room. All right, keep this quiet or we'll never get to the assassins in time. Get to the docks and see if you can find them. Do you need backup?"

"Probably better if I don't have it. A complement of soldiers will alert them."

"I don't need to tell you to be careful, Amelia. These Bloodthorns, they're ruthless and they're pure evil."

"Understood."

"I'm not sure you do. I'm talking about dark magic. _Very_ dark."

"That may be so, but all I've seen so far is daggers, and I know how to deal with those."

"Of that, I have no doubt. I'll get to the castle; you get to the docks."

* * *

><p>Amelia found it hard to believe that there could be that many crates in the world, much less on Daggerfall's docks. There were hundreds, and most were big enough to hold a fully grown adult. She just hoped she didn't have to search them all. There just wasn't time. She would start with the two ships that were docked in port, but if she didn't find the assassins there, she couldn't just leave the docks unsearched. She searched the <em>Lydia<em> first. No one was out in the open, but two crates held people, one a Khajiit stowaway who wailed that he had just wanted a ride, and the other a Bloodthorn assassin.

"You're too late," the killer boasted. "Verrik is already on his way to Daggerfall Castle."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"Don't you know? I'm here to kill _you_."

"Not going to happen." The Bloodthorn lunged for her, and she stepped aside and brought her sword up, catching him in the throat and thanking the gods for good combat training. She had no love for the one who had taught her to fight, but at times like this she couldn't help but be appreciative, if for nothing but the training. She just wondered how many more she was going to have to fight off before she could go home and soak in a hot bath. Having to haul and heat the water would even be worth it.

Amelia ran as fast as she could through the streets of Daggerfall, but her feet felt as though they were slogging through mud. She finally dashed past the guards and through the ornate double doors. She entered the throne room in time to hear Captain Aresin, who was standing amid a crowd of castle guards, pleading with the king to leave.

"My lord, you must go now."

"I will not!" the king replied imperiously. "The dragon does not flee its lair."

"With all due respect, you're no dragon. Wait, what was that?"

Amelia hadn't even heard the door open behind her, but suddenly a handful of Bloodthorns rushed in, all brandishing daggers.

"Get the king out of here!" Aresin shouted at the guards.

Two guards practically carried King Casimir out of the throne room and up the stairs while the remaining three, Aresin, and Amelia all drew their swords. Though she was starting to develop a splitting headache, she fought on, slashing at the nearest assassin furiously, then lunging for another after he was dead. Aresin and the guards fought bravely as well, although one of them fell before the rest of them finished off the intruders.

"Amelia!" called Aresin as he scuffled with the last one. "Upstairs!"

She scrambled to the mezzanine above, to find the two guards dead and another Bloodthorn menacing the king. This one was different, wearing heavy armor instead of dark leathers, and he wielded a sword instead of twin daggers. Verrik, it had to be. Amelia struck at him from behind and he whirled on her, sweeping her sword out of the way with his own and coming in for a quick thrust to her midsection. "No one will stand in Angof's way!" he snarled.

"I'm more worried about you at the moment," she countered with a grunt as the blow caught her enough to cut a good gash through her leather armor and into her skin. A healing potion wouldn't close this one; it would need stitches. Still, where he only had one sword, she had two, and she was able to parry the next thrust and get one of her own in before Verrik could reset.

She didn't count on magic, though, even after Aresin's warning, and the assassin spun around and flung a lightning bolt at her. Her right arm sizzled and scorched, and she cried out in pain and dropped her sword. As he followed through on his spin, he left his side vulnerable, and she managed to bury her other blade deep into his flesh. Aresin made it to the mezzanine just in time to see her twist the sword and jerk upward, sending Verrik to the floor with a spray of blood.

"Good riddance," said the king, walking over and peering down at the body. "Captain, this isn't easy for me to say, but I want to apologize for ignoring your warnings."

"It was nothing, my king. Forgive my impertinence."

"Not at all. You're right: I'm no dragon. And I believe I owe a debt of gratitude to our friend here."

"This is Amelia."

"Amelia, you have a place in my guard, if you want it."

"Thank you, my king," she replied, "but I'm more of a . . . freelancer."

"In that case, I'll be sure to call on you when we need someone of your talents. And you'll be paid well for your work today." He nodded to the two of them and headed back downstairs.

The captain smiled at her. "Good work today."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir,' Amelia. It doesn't sound right, coming from you."

"Then what?"

"My name is Dale." He nodded at the gash in her side and the burn on her arm. "You're injured again."

She nodded. "It's been a long day."

* * *

><p>Characters and settings c. 2014 Zenimax Online<p> 


	2. LOS 2 - Werewolf

Lady of Storms Two

Werewolf

"_Trust me and I will guide you, my child."_

"I trust you."

"What was that?" Dale mumbled, throwing an arm over her.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

He snuggled closer and kissed her neck. "I'm awake now."

"You sleep too lightly."

"Have you always talked in your sleep?"

"Sorry."

"Don't be." He turned her over on her back, bent down and placed his mouth on hers, moaning softly as he drank her in. When they finally broke the kiss, he said, "I need to get up anyway. While I would love to stay here in bed with you all day, I have to train and get to my post. Come train with me."

She shook her head. "Not this morning. I smell coffee, so I think Kireina's finally home. I'm going to catch up with her." She got up and threw on a tunic and a pair of trousers while Dale went to the wash basin and began to shave. "I'll be out here," she said as she left the bedroom.

Kireina was sitting in front of the fire with a huge mug in her hands. The Nord was blonde and pretty, nearly a foot taller than Amelia, with the solid musculature of a practiced warrior. The child of two members of the Companions guild, she had grown up with a sword in her hand. While Amelia liked to fight, she was just as happy with missions of intrigue or mysteries to solve, but Kireina was all about the battle. That being said, Amelia had rarely seen her angry. She fought with a restoration staff and was just as talented a healer as she was a fighter. Perhaps the combination of fighting and healing helped to keep her balanced—or maybe other factors contributed as well—because she was the most pleasant-spirited person Amelia knew.

Amelia went to the fireplace, where a metal pitcher warmed fresh coffee made with rich kaveh beans she had purchased in Wayrest. They didn't have a lot of money to throw around, but they always splurged on their kaveh beans. She grabbed a mug, and using a rag so as not to burn her hand on the pitcher, she poured herself some of the hot brew and sat down next to the Nord. "You were gone for months," she complained. "You don't write, you don't send flowers; I didn't even know where you were."

"I was in Hammerfell," Kireina said with a Nordic accent, "escorting a dignitary to Sentinel. Then I spent a little time interacting with the local color, did a few missions for the captain of the guard."

"Well, next time you're going so far, leave me a note, okay? How was it in Hammerfell?"

"It was hot, and there was nothing to hunt except assassin beetles, snakes, and necromancers. What about you?"

Dale emerged from the bedroom, freshly cleaned and shaven and looking very handsome, and he came to Amelia's side, where he took the coffee from her hand and took a sip.

"You want some?" she asked him. "There's plenty."

"Aye, thanks." He grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee. "Can I take your cup?"

"Of course. Just bring it back. You know how I am about that stuff. Dale Aresin, this is Kireina Skaarsgard."

"Well met, Kireina. I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm afraid I can't say the same, Captain, but I have a feeling I'm going to."

Dale chuckled, then bent to kiss Amelia goodbye. "I'll see you at the Lion later?"

"If not before. Have a good day."

As soon as he was gone, Kireina said, "All right, spill it. What are you doing with the captain of the guard?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she said with a wink. "But I have so much more to tell you."

"What's going on?"

Amelia told her the story of how she was taken from her bedroll and placed on an altar for sacrifice, and about how she was miraculously saved.

"You're serious," Kireina assumed finally.

"Oh, aye. Dale said they were probably Bloodthorns, a cult that worships Molag Bal."

"Well, that can't be a coincidence."

"What?"

"I heard rumors while I was traveling about a plot to drag Nirn into Coldharbour, but I thought they were just that—rumors. I was told about Molag Bal cults that were summoning monstrous anchors—portals to Coldharbour—along with all sorts of Daedra. I never saw one, mind you, but the stories I heard were horrendous. But you _weren't_ sacrificed. You said someone saved you?"

Amelia shrugged. "I honestly don't know what happened. One minute I'm lying on an altar, looking up at this elf who is about to stab me with a dagger, and the next I'm waking up in my own bed and Jakarn is standing at the bedroom door. He said I'd been unconscious for a couple of days and that when they pulled me out of the ocean, I was glowing."

"Glowing!"

"He had to be making it up. But I think part of me actually believes it. I've been having dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Well, I _guess_ they're dreams. When I'm asleep, someone will tell me to trust them—trust _her_—and that she will guide me."

"And do you?"

"I might trust her more if I knew who she was. Or maybe she's just a figment of my imagination."

Kireina grimaced at her. "What is it with you? You can't just get into normal, everyday trouble. You have to go and get the attention of a Daedric Prince or something. Wasn't there something a year or so ago with Nocturnal?"

"Oi, when I told her I wasn't willing to pledge my soul to her, she left me completely alone."

"Are you sure? Maybe this is her, still watching out for you."

Amelia shook her head. "Nocturnal is more practical. She wouldn't be so elusive. And this is not a Daedric Prince."

"But how do you know? You were very lucky, suddenly disappearing from that altar."

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Sure. I want to hear all about how you ended up in bed with Captain Aresin."

"We met about a month ago when I stumbled upon a plot to assassinate King Casimir. It's not serious, but it's steady. He's perfect: he's a sweetheart, he's gorgeous, and he'll train with me."

Kireina chuckled. "But it's not serious."

"Nah. He's married to his job, and I travel too much to think about settling down. But I like him."

"Serious or not, I'm happy for you. In this town, I'm not surprised about an assassination attempt. There is so much going on behind the scenes."

"Do you know Roy? The one with the dog, Giblets. He was murdered, and I uncovered this scheme when I was investigating that. A group called the Bloodthorn Cult was behind it all."

"You mentioned them before."

"Aye, the assassination attempt was why Dale started wondering whether they were behind my abduction. We haven't seen them since then, but something like that sticks with you." She smiled sadly. "Poor Dale. He's a practical man, and the thought that an evil cult had tried to sacrifice me to Molag Bal didn't set well with him."

"I'm afraid to ask if anything else has happened while I was gone."

"Isn't that enough?"

"More than enough."

Amelia finished her coffee and said, "I think I'll go train with him after all. Wanna come?"

Kirena shook her head. "I had a busy night and need some rest. I haven't been to bed yet."

"Are you sticking around for a while?"

"Aye, I don't have anything else right now. I hunted last night, so I'm content to stay home for now. Let's go to the Rosy Lion for a pint later."

Amelia kissed her friend on the forehead and went to dress.

She arrived at the castle training yard an hour later, but Dale wasn't around. One of the guards directed her to his post on the castle wall, where she found him in a heated discussion with a guard. When he saw her, he called her over.

"Hey. You want a job?"

"Sure, what do you have?"

"We're undermanned at the moment, and I need help with something just outside of town. It's a two-person job, so feel free to ask your friend if she wants to tag along."

It was spring in Glenumbra, and with the warming weather came what Dale liked to call "bandit season." The Red Rook bandits had grown bolder of late and had taken a local resident and his family hostage in their own home. Dale sent Amelia and Kirena to take care of the problem.

The women met with Captain Farlivere, who was set up half a mile outside the grounds of Noellaume Manor, a few miles northeast of Daggerfall.

"The biggest problem we have at the moment is the wolves," the captain told them. "The Red Rooks use trained wolves to guard their camp. It increases their confidence, I guess, but it also makes them careless."

She handed Amelia a sack full of foliage. "This is wolf's woe. I need you to infiltrate the camp and get into the manor, then give this to Lord Arcady Noellaume and his family. The plant will mask their scents, and they should be able to walk past the wolves and get out of the area. Bring them to me if you can. Once you've taken care of the wolves and released the hostages, we can charge in and take out the bandits."

"Anything else we need to know?" Kireina asked.

"Always is." She picked up a knapsack from nearby and handed it to the Nord. "They've probably locked the house, so you'll have to find the key, which is probably on the chief or in his tent. Captain Aresin says you're good at subterfuge, Amelia. Inside that sack are two Red Rook uniforms, which you can use to sneak past the bandits."

"Can't we just fight our way through?" Kireina wondered.

Farlivere shook her head. "There are too many for two of you."

Kireina raised one eyebrow, but Farlivere ignored it.

"Look, just sneak through, get the key, and rescue the hostages. Kill anyone who tries to stop you, but try not to cause too much of a ruckus."

"No, these are great," said Amelia, taking the knapsack from Kireina and pulling out the disguises. "Don't worry, Kireina. I'm sure there will be some Red Rooks for you to kill."

"I can always hope," she replied with a chuckle.

Amelia and Kireina went behind a shrub and changed into the disguises, then left their armor with the captain and set out toward the camp, Kireina grumbling about the lack of protection the disguises provided. They held some protective magic, but they probably wouldn't stand up to a sword to the belly. They walked through like they owned the place, and though a few of the bandits gave them suspicious glances, no one stopped them. They finally had to fight when they reached the chief's tent. A vicious-looking orc stood just outside the doorway, arms folded, talking to a burly Nord. There was no way past them.

"Yes!" Kireina whispered triumphantly.

They drew their weapons and snuck up on the bandits as best they could, but Kireina wasn't stealthy—and didn't care to be—and they were easily discovered. Amelia took the orc, casting a Petrify spell on him first. The spell immobilized him momentarily, and she was able to get in a couple of good strikes with her twin swords before he came out of it and swung his heavy warhammer at her. She narrowly dodged a devastating blow to the head, darting in to make two deep slashes across his midsection. With an "oof" and a spray of blood, he collapsed to his knees, but he still swung the hammer at her. With a wave of her hand and a whispered incantation, she cast a Lava Whip at him, essentially burning off the top of his head. Finally, he fell the ground and died. Amelia turned just in time to see Kireina decapitate the Nord.

Her friend growled with vigor as the head flew and blood gushed all over her. "That's what I needed!" she exclaimed.

"I'm happy for you, but keep your voice down. The captain was right: there are too many Red Rooks to take down ourselves, so just hush."

"Oi, you're ruining all my fun," Kireina teased.

Amelia and Kireina checked the bandits' pockets for a key, but there was none. When they searched the tent, however, Amelia found it in a lockbox on a table. "Let's get inside," she said.

They crossed the yard, stopping to fight one of the troop's trained wolves, an altercation that left Kireina panting with a wild look in her eyes.

"Keep it together, Reina," Amelia warned her.

"I'm all right. I guess the wolf's woe wasn't strong enough to mask _my_ scent, huh?"

"I'm surprised it attacked; it was probably terrified of you. Gods, _I'm_ terrified of you."

They entered the house and killed the bandit that was on guard, then went downstairs to find the Noellaume family tied up in the basement. They untied the hostages, a few of whom bad been pretty badly beaten, and Kireina applied her healing magic. Amelia marveled at the look of serenity that came over the face of the woman who was still covered in the blood of her last opponent. They distributed the wolf's woe, then escorted them out the back way, past the wolves and traps, and to the road where Captain Farlivere and the other guards waited.

"Anything you can tell us about the bandits?" the captain asked Lord Noellaume.

"Yes, yes. I'm glad to help! I would have fought the fiends myself, but they surprised us."

"It was better letting us do the dirty work, my lord."

"Some of them came in by boat, but I think they're mainly operating out of Ilessan Tower. Most of them seemed to be here on the grounds, but I overheard a couple of them talking about it. They mentioned that a few stayed back at the tower to stand guard."

Farlivere turned to Amelia and Kireina. "We'll charge in here and retake the grounds. You two go to Ilessan Tower and clear it out. Report back to me when you're done."

Maintaining the disguises but taking their armor with them, the women made their way to the tower, which was just outside of Daggerfall. The above-ground portion of the tower, which was all that was left standing of an old fort, was in ruins. However, a trap door led to a lower level that was still intact. It was a good hideout for bandits, and though Amelia had never been there, she knew the city guards had to clear the tower most every spring.

They stashed their armor in a nook at the rear of the tower, and Kireina carefully opened the trap door. Noellaume had been right; there were only a few Red Rooks present, and thanks to the disguises, most of them let the women walk right up before realizing they weren't supposed to be there. They cleared out the tower in about an hour, then checked for loot and anything of interest. Amelia found just such an item on a crate near a cookfire. It was a letter with some startling news.

_B-  
>Loot as much as you can from Ilessan Tower. We need resources to take to the Bloodthorns. We will be in control of Noellaume Manor by the time you're done. Flank the Daggerfall guards when you get there.<br>-T_

"Sweet Mara, the Red Rooks are working with the Bloodthorns!" Amelia gasped.

"Better take that to the captain."

"You're right. Let's get out of here."

They left the tower and changed back into their own armor, then reported to Captain Farlivere. When she released them, they headed back to town.

They passed a beggar Amelia often gave money to on the way in. She didn't know his name, but she always spoke, even when she didn't have any coin to give him. She said hello and started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.

"Please," he said, "I need your help."

"I'm sorry, friend. I don't have anything on me at the moment."

"No, no, it's not the coin; I need something else. You're the one who stopped the assassination plot, right?"

She nodded. "What can I help you with?"

"There are murders. Somebody—some_thing_—is killing Daggerfall's poor."

Kireina cocked her head to the side like a curious puppy. "Go on," she prodded.

"The guards won't help. They figure it's just one more bum off the streets."

That made Amelia angry. It wasn't just Dale; she considered many of the town guards her friends. If they were neglecting the poor for any reason, she was going to be very put out. "Who did you talk to?" she asked the beggar with an edge to her voice.

"Lieutenant DuBois. He didn't say those exact words, you understand. He just implied that he had more important things to worry about. He said it was probably exposure or starvation that killed them, but Red, these people were torn to pieces. When I told him that, he said it was probably just an animal attack."

"How many?"

"Three, so far."

"We'll look into it," she promised.

"You might start with the alleyways. That's where all the murders took place."

"I want to talk to Lieutenant DuBois first, and then we'll check the alleys."

They said goodbye to the beggar and went to the town square, where Michel DuBois normally stood watch. He was good looking, mid-thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes. He usually had a smug expression on his face, but after getting to know him, Amelia knew he was actually a nice guy. He just _looked_ like an ass.

"Well met, Red," he said when they approached. He noticed Amelia's grim expression and said, "What's wrong?"

"I just heard some local beggars have been murdered."

DuBois sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "They haven't been murdered, Red. That guy isn't right in the head, and he's just making up stories."

"So three of them _weren't _torn to pieces? Did you even investigate?"

"I didn't think it was necessary."

"Michel, just because he's homeless doesn't mean he's crazy. You should have checked up on this."

With a glare, he said, "Are you telling me my job? I report to your boyfriend, not to you."

"Then I'll go to him."

She walked away before he could respond and went to Dale, who was standing at his post as usual.

He gave an exasperated sigh he saw her. "You're covered in blood again, Amelia." He glanced over at Kireina. "Every time I see her, she's covered in blood."

"Doesn't surprise me."

"Are the two of you all right?"

"Most of it isn't mine," Amelia assured him. "I'm all right, and Kireina wasn't injured at all. We rescued the Noellaume family and helped clear out the bandits, and we found this in Ilessan Tower." She handed him the note, and he groaned.

"Bloodthorns. Damn it! Thanks for bringing this to me. We'll get right on it."

Amelia crossed her arms and stared at him.

"What is it? Something else?"

"Do you know about the murders?"

"Which ones?"

"'Which ones'?"

"It's a big city, Amelia."

"I'm talking about the poor. Three homeless people were ripped apart."

"Right, they were animal attacks."

"How can you be sure? DuBois said you didn't even look into it."

"Because they were animal attacks. I thought it was pretty clear. The countryside is crawling with wolves. One of them probably snuck in at night."

"Into a city full of people?" Kireina countered. "That's highly unlikely. Wolves are shy. Feral or not, they're going to avoid large concentrations of people."

Amelia shook her head. "Dale, you can't just let this go."

"Amelia, you know we're stretched thin. I can't afford to sacrifice the manpower to check into something involving a bunch of vagrants who were obviously attacked by wolves. Shy or not!"

Amelia's blood boiled, and she recoiled as if he'd slapped her. "'A bunch of vagrants'? I can't believe you actually said that! You know I've lived on the streets. Am I a vagrant?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Gods damnit, Dale, that's what the guard is for!"

He rolled his eyes. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

She merely glared at him.

"Fine, fine. Check into it, but I think you're going to come to the same conclusion as we did. If you actually find anything, I'll see to it that you're compensated."

"Don't worry about it. We'll do this one at no charge."

"Why are you so upset?"

"They might be homeless, but that doesn't mean they're worthless. If you ever talked to them, you'd know that. They're down on their luck, but they deserve the same respect as your fine, upstanding citizens, and you and Michel are both telling me they're not worth your time. Which means if I was living on the streets, _I_ wouldn't be worth it."

"Amelia, you don't understand. You don't stand up here and watch the city every day, and you don't see what I do."

"No, I most definitely do not, and maybe that's a good thing. Look, I have to go. I want to find out what's going on here as soon as I can."

"Will I at least see you later so we can talk about this?" he asked plaintively.

"I don't know. You're not the person I thought you were, Dale. I need time to think. I'll at least let you know what we turn up, though." She turned her back and walked away.

"Amelia!"

But she didn't turn around. She just kept going.

Kireina followed behind her, and when she caught up, she said, "Well, that went well."

"'A bunch of vagrants!'"

"I don't think he meant anything by it."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it? He didn't think about what he was saying because he has no consideration for them. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's take a look at the alleys, okay?"

"Right with you."

They started with the alleys on the south side of town and found a crime scene almost immediately. Someone had taken the body away, but blood was spattered all over the ground and the back wall of a house. Kireina sniffed around while Amelia took a closer look, and then they compared notes.

"I found some hair and a few pieces of clothing next to the wall," said Amelia. "Without a body to examine it's hard to say, but I think our friend may have been right about them being ripped apart."

"There are two scents," Kireina noted, "one of the victim and one that's . . . disturbing. And it's not a wolf. I just hope I'm wrong about what it is."

"What do you think it is?"

A man and a woman were seated on the ground nearby, surrounded by some bags and a few odds and ends, and before Kireina could answer Amelia, the man called them over.

"Take care," he warned. "A vicious monster stalks these alleyways."

"Why are you back here, then?" Amelia asked.

"This is where we live," he replied defensively.

"It's been attacking mostly at night," the woman told them.

"What kind of monster?" asked Kireina apprehensively.

"We haven't seen it. None have seen it and lived."

They went on and searched some of Daggerfall's other alleys, and they found another bloody scene on the west side. There was more shredded clothing, and Amelia found several small bones, probably from a hand or foot.

Just around the corner from the scene, a man called them over. "You're investigating, aye? Word travels fast."

"Aye, we are," said Amelia. "Anything you can tell us?"

"It's a werewolf."

"Damn it!" Kireina exclaimed. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Terrible things are going on here, right under the city guard's noses, and they do nothing. Necromancers are prowling the streets, those terrible green vines are cropping up all over, and now a werewolf stalks the poor."

"What do the vines have to do with it?" asked Amelia.

"The vines belong to the Bloodthorn Cult, didn't you know? Wherever the vines appear, the Bloodthorns aren't far away."

"They're still in the city? How do you know that?"

He gave her a sly smile. "Nobody pays attention to the homeless. We're invisible. That means we can listen. We know more about what goes on in this city than anyone because nobody pays us any mind."

"But what makes you think it's a werewolf?" Kireina demanded.

"Mariah the Invisible saw it. Seven feet tall, covered in fur, long, sharp claws and fangs. It was last seen over by the river; that was a couple of days ago."

"A werewolf. In my city!"

"_Your_ city?" the man echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Just that we feel responsible for the welfare of the residents here," Amelia said quickly. "Rest assured, friend, we'll take care of it."

They left the man on the corner and headed toward the river, Kireina seething. This was one of the few times Amelia had ever seen her angry, and she was trembling and red-faced. "A fucking werewolf in Daggerfall. Who does he think he is?"

"He's a smart one too. He's only targeting the homeless, whom few people will miss, if any. I wonder if he's associated with the Bloodthorns or if it's just coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidence. Look, you can tag along, Red, but if we find this werewolf, he's mine. Daggerfall is only big enough for one of us."

"Understood. Do you think he knew you lived here?"

"My scent is all over town; I even marked the outer walls and city gates. He knew."

They searched the riverbank, and although they found some tracks that Kireina said certainly belonged to a werewolf, they didn't find the creature himself. Craning her neck and sniffing, Kireina began tracking the beast. She lost his scent when it went into the water, but she found it again on the other side of the river. It led under the bridge and to a sewer grate with several bars ripped off.

"How did the guards not see that?" Kireina grumbled.

"It's out of the way. He broke the grate just next to the bridge where nobody ever goes, and he was able to slip in and out as he pleased."

"Well, no more." She squeezed through the opening and into the tunnel, which opened onto a stream a few feet outside the wall, and Kireina continued to follow the scent. She didn't find the creature, but she found the man, sitting by a cookfire at a camp hidden in the woods about a mile out of town.

The werewolf recognized Kireina by her scent, and with a snarl, he began to shift to his beast form, as did Kireina. With the ripping of clothing, the crunch of bone and the squish of flesh, the pretty Nord changed into a monstrous beast. Amelia had seen her friend shift twice before, and it always gave her chills. Kireina wasn't small by any means, but the change in size was astonishing, and she radiated sheer rage. The presence of the slavering monster—even though it was her best friend—terrified her. After all, werewolves couldn't always control their impulses, and she couldn't be sure she wasn't in any danger.

Resting her hands on her swords, she took several steps back and watched in horror as Kireina charged the other werewolf, roaring with fury and then laughing maniacally as she tore him to pieces. He shifted back to human form as he perished, and Amelia tried not to watch as Kireina ripped into his chest, yanked out his heart, and ate it. Finally, panting and drenched in blood, her friend looked over at her. "I'll be back," she growled, and she loped off toward the river.

Amelia figured Kireina was cleaning up, so she sat down with her back to a nearby tree and waited, staring at the werewolf's tattered body. She was still spattered with blood, herself; she could probably do with a bath too. But she would wait till she got home rather than bathe in the river. Deciding she should inspect the camp, she got up and went over, stepping around the blood and gore as best she could. The search was successful, and she recovered a few pieces of jewelry and a letter.

_L-  
>Your infiltration into Daggerfall has been noticed, and you are instructed to take more care with your hunt. You are there to gather information, not slaughter the locals. If you cannot maintain better control, we will remove you and send someone else in.<br>Hail Faolchu and Angof  
>-T<em>

Angof. So it _was_ the Bloodthorns, and this werewolf was a spy. He just couldn't control his impulse to kill.

It occurred to Amelia that the Bloodthorns were arrogant, writing letters to each other and keeping them out in the open as if they couldn't imagine anyone possibly opposing them. They weren't afraid, and they weren't subtle. Well, that was fine. It would just make her job easier.

After a few minutes, Kireina came loping back, clean and wet. When she reached the camp, she shifted back to her human form and stood before Amelia, stark naked, with a smile on her face.

"Good thing we kept those Red Rook uniforms," she quipped. "Can't very well head back to town with no clothes on."

"You smell like a wet dog." Eying her up and down, she added, "But you look pretty good, though."

"Sweet talker. I probably should have shifted back _before_ I jumped in the river."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course. Got to blow off steam, got to feed; I'm one happy werewolf. Of course, I need new armor—again—but I'm used to that."

"Well, it scared the crap out of me."

"I'm sorry about that. I wouldn't hurt you; surely you know that."

"What if you had lost control?"

Kireina shook her head as she rummaged through the knapsack for a Red Rook uniform. "A werewolf who can't control her impulses isn't a very good werewolf."

"Apparently _this_ guy couldn't." She read the note to her friend.

"Uh-huh, and it got him killed. Bad werewolf. No biscuit." She looked at Amelia pensively. "I wonder who Angof and Faolchu are."

"Angof is associated with the Bloodthorns, but I don't know of anyone named Faolchu."

"Ancient lore speaks of a sort of werewolf king named Faolchu from the time of the Ayleids, but if he really existed at all, he's long dead."

"We'll have to keep our eyes and ears open. Let's get back to town, tell Dale what we found, and remind him that he needs to take the poor more seriously."

"Are you going to make up with him?"

"I don't know," she confessed.

The sun had set by the time they walked through the gates of Daggerfall, and Amelia sighed with satisfaction. At least for now, the homeless didn't have to fear the night, and she was glad about that. But the Bloodthorns wouldn't let it stay that way for long. The werewolves, the vines, the assassination attempt—and she couldn't forget what the beggar had said about necromancers. And they all worshiped Molag Bal. With that thought, the satisfaction melted away and anxiety set in. Worrying was a waste of energy, though, so she strengthened her resolve to do whatever it took to stop the Bloodthorn Cult and the Daedric Prince.

* * *

><p>Characters and settings c.2014 Zenimax Online Studios<p>

13


	3. LOS 3 - The Beldama Wyrd

Lady of Storms Three

The Beldama Wyrd

Dale was understandably concerned about a werewolf in Daggerfall, and he and Michel Dubois promised to be more vigilant. They were also apologetic over their treatment of the homeless, but Amelia didn't really expect them to change. Dale was right: they had seen a lot in their time with the guard, and that could make a person jaded.

Over the next few weeks, Amelia saw less and less of her lover. They were both busy with bandits and Bloodthorns, and she never really forgave him for his insensitivity toward the homeless, even if she understood his views. Eventually, they rarely saw each other at all, except when discussing work. She supposed it was for the best. She cared for him, but there was too much going on in her life to let her feelings develop into love. Fortunately there was little tension between them; it wasn't a bad breakup, and besides, they were professionals. Personal feelings wouldn't prevent them from being civil while working together. They still woke up in bed together on the odd occasion, usually when they had been drinking, but even that grew less often. The _Spearhead_ was in port, and these days she was more likely to wake up in bed with Jakarn, often with both him and Kireina—sometimes just with Kireina.

And then there was the Dark Anchor. It was on the southeastern shore of Glenumbra, and they were out there at least once a week trying to keep the thing closed. Worm Cultists had erected the dolmen overnight and had warded it with powerful magic, and no matter how hard the guards tried to get rid of it, they couldn't sunder the stone structure. Hammers wouldn't crush it, and burying it was futile because a strong wind would come and blow all the sand or dirt away. Magic had no effect on the structure whatsoever. They placed guards to keep Worm Cultists from appearing and opening the anchor, but one mishap or another would leave the dolmen unguarded and the Dark Anchor would drop.

Whenever an anchor dropped, the whole southern peninsula knew it. It would open with the thunder of a great trumpet, and Daedra would explode through a massive portal that loomed a hundred feet in the sky, tethered to the world by chains so huge, even one link was bigger than Amelia. The battles were harrowing, and sometimes she would have nightmares about the terrifying anchors opening up on top of her and raining Daedra on her head. But she kept on fighting. What else could she do?

She did have new toys to play with. Working for King Casimir was lucrative, and she had invested in two new swords and had Camille Ashton, Daggerfall's resident enchanter, put flame and frost enchantments on them. Camille had also worked miracles with the Bosmer armor Amelia had awakened in. It was revealing, but the enchantments were so powerful that when she was in a fight it was as though no skin was exposed. She felt like a different woman, roving the countryside with superior weapons and better protection from the creatures Molag Bal kept throwing at her.

She was heading home after just such a battle when she passed a Wyress on the road. She was pretty, dark haired and gray eyed, wearing an animal-skin dress with bone embellishments. The witches of the Beldama Wyrd had been in the area trying to rid the local mill of forest creatures that had inexplicably turned hostile. Amelia had offered to help, but they had assured her that everything was well in hand, so she had left them to it. But today, the Wyress pulled her aside.

"You mentioned a willingness to help," she said. "Does that offer still stand?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I'm Wyress Ileana."

"You can call me Red."

"Red, as you know, things are not well in our woods, but lately they have grown even worse. The Guardians have gone silent, and this corruption spreads."

"Who are the Guardians?"

"Elemental spirits, one each for air, earth, and water. They are the Ehlnofey, and they have been a part of the land since the dawn of Tamriel. They protect the land and _used to_ guide us, but suddenly, nothing."

"Why would they stop communicating like that?"

"We have no idea. We don't know if we've angered them or if someone has done something to hurt them . . . there is a ritual to contact them, but it's too dangerous for my sisters and me to perform."

"Is it something I can do?"

"I don't know; you're not one of us, but we simply can't fight the creatures, so we have to try _something_."

"Creatures. Great."

"If this is too much—"

"No, no, not at all. I'm glad to help. It just seems like there are always creatures."

"Indeed." She pointed through the trees. "See the lurchers out there? The monstrosities that look as though they're made from rotting wood."

They were hard to miss. The magical creatures were dark green with patches of dead gray, bipedal, about seven feet tall with no heads to speak of; they just sort of ended at the shoulders. They were hollow, and a large, glowing circle rested in the center of their chests. "I see them."

"They're abominations of the Bloodthorns. They used to be spriggans, but the Bloodthorns have twisted and corrupted them. Gather some of their limbs—that's the dangerous part—then burn them at the altar atop the nearby ruin."

"Would you like for me to just kill the lurchers and so you can perform the ritual?"

"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. The one who kills them must gather the limbs, and the one who gathers the limbs must burn them. If it works, a Guardian should appear, and hopefully we can find out what we've done, or what we need to do. Afterward, find me at the Vale of the Guardians, just north of here."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

She set out to fight the lurchers, which turned out to be among the easiest battles she'd had in weeks. They were indeed made of rotting wood, so they didn't stand up well to her flame-enchanted sword. She did take a couple of jarring blows from one or two of them, but she managed to get a fairly good stock of lurcher limbs to perform the ritual without too much trouble.

The ruins Ileana had mentioned were up a hill that was overgrown with the foul Bloodthorn vines, from which wafted a pungent yellow mist. She carried the branches up the hill but dropped them near the top to deal with a necromancer who stood guard. The fight was bloody, but the necromancer wasn't the problem; it was the zombie he raised that gave her trouble. She fought off the zombie as best she could, hacking at it and ducking out of the way when it vomited disgusting green goo at her, but it was hard to kill. The best thing would be to lop its head off, but with the way it moved, she couldn't get room for a good swing at its neck. It got in a few good scratches to her torso, reminding Amelia that her armor wasn't invulnerable. She finally managed to get around it and reach the necromancer, who was otherwise unarmed. He lobbed a couple of flame spells at her, but they were clearly not his strong suit and Amelia was able to dodge them and take his head off. When the necromancer fell, so did the zombie.

Farther up the hill, she found the altar, which was also overgrown with the vines, and put the limbs upon it; then with whispered incantation and a cone of flame, she ignited them. Out of the fire rose an ethereal figure shaped like a female humanoid, but it appeared to be made entirely of stone.

"Greetings, child. I am the Guardian of the Earth. We are the Ehlnofey, echoes of old voices, remnants of a time long ago. We nurture the land and guide the Wyrd. We have been waiting for someone to summon us, and such a gifted child is better than we expected."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Angof the Gravesinger has imprisoned us, and we are cut off from the Wyrd. You must set us free."

"How can I do that?"

"The first step is to cleanse the standing stones of Angof's dark influence."

"Where are these standing stones?"

"The Wyresses will know of what we speak. Protect the Wyrd while they destroy the corruption binding the stones. This will loosen Angof's grip. From there, a ritual involving your spirit will bring about our release."

"_My_ spirit?"

"You will not be harmed during the ritual, but you must be the catalyst. Wyress Ileana will know what must be done."

"I've been trying to learn more about Angof and the Bloodthorns," she told the stone spirit. "Is there anything you can tell me?"

"The Bloodthorns are merely Angof's puppets. He is a tremor in the land, a poison in the water. He is Gravesinger, Reachmage, necromancer, and corrupter."

"Is he a man? An elf? Something else?"

"He is man, but he is tainted by evil. You must stop him."

"I'll do whatever I can."

The Guardian faded from view, and Amelia went back down the hill. The vines were becoming more prominent in the woods, and they completely lined the road in some places. But when she reached the Vale of the Guardians, it seemed someone had placed a protective spell around the area. Flowers and healthy trees grew among lush, green grass, and the warm sun streamed through the canopy above. It was beautiful.

Wyress Ileana was waiting in a small garden inside the vale. "I heard a whisper throughout the forest. Was it the Guardians? Did they talk to you? Did they say what we've done?"

"You haven't done anything, Ileana. Angof has them imprisoned."

"Imprisoned! Our enemy is that powerful?"

"She said he was a gravesinger."

"A gravesinger? Oh, no."

"What is a gravesinger, exactly?"

"A gravesinger's power goes beyond that of a simple necromancer. We must free the Guardians! But how?"

"The Guardian said to send your Wyrd to cleanse the standing stones."

Ileana nodded. "Cleanse the stones of the choking vines, of course. I will send three of my sisters north to cleanse the stones, but they will need protection from the corrupted creatures that might attack them before they complete the spell."

"I'll protect them, but the Guardian said this was only the first step. She said my spirit would be involved in another ritual and that you would know what to do next."

"Did she say why it had to be you?"

Amelia shook her head in response.

"Perhaps they know something we don't, then. They can be mysterious. We'll need to sacrifice a spriggan—or better yet, a lurcher—to cleanse the ritual site first." She took an amulet from around her neck and handed it to Amelia, who didn't know what was inside the small pouch at the end of the leather string, but she could feel the power it radiated. It practically vibrated in her hands. "When the sisters are done, weaken a lurcher and use the amulet to take control of it. Just hold it toward the creature and utter the words, '_Solo kiro na-cientho_.' Then lead it up the hill to us. We'll do the rest."

"'_Solo kiro na-cientho_.' Got it."

Ileana called three of her sisters over and introduced Wyresses Ofelia, Madenn, and Shaelle. Together they made their way through the forest until they reached the first stone.

"See these vines?" said Ofelia. "Corruption runs through them and they choke the sacred stones. Soon they will tap into the stone's magic and defile it completely. I need you to protect me while I cleanse the stone."

"What about you two?" Amelia asked Madenn and Shaelle.

"Only one of us can cleanse a stone," said Shaelle, "and it tires us out so that we can't do any more. When Ofelia finishes here, she will go up the hill to join Ileana and we will go to the next stone, and so on."

"I understand. All right, you two hide behind a tree or something. Just stay out of the way. Ofelia, I'm ready."

"The protectors will be on us as soon as I begin the spell," Ofelia warned her. She raised her hands toward the stone and began chanting. Fire blazed forth from her hands, but before it could catch the vines, a Bloodthorn cultist leapt out from behind the stone and attacked.

Amelia engaged the cultist, taking him down with ease, but another one appeared seemingly out of nowhere and cast a spell that made her head swim. Before she could recover, her torso erupted in pain, and she came out of the haze to realize he had hit her with a fireball.

Maybe she should reconsider the armor after all.

"Damn you!" she cried as she raised her hand to cast her own spell. Dark talons burst from the ground and held the cultist in place while she cast another, one that provided some healing while the cultist stared at her in disbelief. She supposed it was disconcerting to watch. It rendered her all but invisible except for her beating heart, which glowed with red light. Unfortunately, after the talon spell she didn't have enough magicka to heal herself completely, but the visual effect provided a deadly distraction for the cultist, who was still staring at her even when the talons disappeared. She thrust her frost sword into his chest, and he keeled over, dead.

"The stone is cleansed," said Ofelia. "I'll meet you at the ritual site after I've rested for a minute."

"You're injured," said Madenn, walking up to Amelia, whose body was just reappearing around her. She reached into a pouch on her belt and produced a healing potion. "Here. Drink."

Amelia accepted the potion and sighed with relief as the last of the blisters on her torso faded away. In only a few moments, she was pain free. "Thanks," she said earnestly. "Now, let's go take care of the other two stones."

Madenn cleansed her stone and Amelia protected her without injury, but she ended up needing more healing when defending Shaelle. One of the cultists bashed her on the head with a hammer, and though she managed to finish him off, as soon as he was dead, she fainted. She awoke with her head in Shaelle's lap, and the Wyress was holding a healing potion to her lips.

"I fear you have a concussion," she said, "but this should help. As you already know, our healing potions are powerful." She held the potion for Amelia as she drank.

Amelia tried to get up, but Shaelle pulled her down. "Rest for a moment, give the potion time to take full effect. You'll be no good to us if you pass out again."

"You're right, sorry."

"No need to apologize. We are so grateful for your help. We could not have done this without you."

They sat together next to the stone for half an hour or so until Amelia was feeling better, and then Shaelle made her way to the ritual site while Amelia prepared to capture a lurcher. She found one nearby and sneaked up on it from behind, then weakened it with a few swings of her flame sword. When it was struggling to stand, she held forth the amulet. "_Solo kiro na-cientho!" _she shouted.

A green mist swirled out of the amulet and surrounded the lurcher. It turned to her as if it were looking at her. It gave a little bow, then stood to full height and trembled as if it were a dog shaking water out of its fur.

"You coming with me, then?" she asked. It didn't answer, of course, but it followed her when she started out. Every once in a while, it would stop and shiver, and her curiosity was practically overwhelming. Why did it do that? Ileana had said it was a corrupted spriggan. Maybe the shakes were the spriggan trying to reassert itself. She would probably never know.

They passed another lurcher on the way, and Amelia's lurcher attacked it. She didn't have to do anything as it ripped the other creature apart. When it was done, it turned to her and thrust out its chest as if to say, "See what I did?" almost as though it were looking for approval.

"Thanks," she said simply. "Let's go."

They arrived at the top of the hill to find a ring of stones and a handful of Wyresses standing among them. Amelia led the lurcher to the center of the circle, where it immediately started to tremble. It fell to the ground and a mist rose out of it. The lurcher disintegrated, and a spriggan took its place.

"By my blood, the corruption is washed away," the spriggan said weakly. Then she lay on the ground and perished.

"The sacrifice has made this holy place pure again," Ileana told Amelia. "The poor spriggan spirit is finally free. We can begin the ritual to set the Guardians free whenever you are ready."

"I'm ready," said Amelia.

"Beldama! Sisters! Focus your power on Amelia. It's time to break Angof's hold on the Guardians."

The Wyresses stood in a circle around Amelia and held their hands toward her. Golden light streamed from their fingers and engulfed her in warmth. There was a bit of a shock, but there was very little pain. Suddenly the light exploded all around her and dissipated, and the three Guardians hovered at the edge of the ring of standing stones.

Amelia already knew the Guardian of the Earth, whose stone countenance was more prominent in person. The others appeared female as well; the Guardian of the Water was made of ice, and the Guardian of the Air was little more than a specter.

"At last the chains of corruption fall away," said the Guardian of the Earth. "We are free of Angof's hold!"

The Guardian of the Air momentarily took on a more corporeal appearance, and she sneered, "And he will pay for this insult."

"Champion of the Guardians, we are in your debt," said the Guardian of the Water. "It is right that you should be the one to free us. You are mortal, yet you have been touched by the gods."

"Touched by the gods? What do you mean?"

"Angof has much to fear from you, as you have power he does not understand—power that you do not yet understand yourself. But his evil still flows through the land, and this must end quickly. There is more work for you."

"I'll do whatever is necessary."

"Go to the Wyrd Tree and speak to Wyress Gwen. She will instruct you on what needs to be done."

With that, the Guardians disappeared. Ileana walked over and handed Amelia a pouch of gold and a dagger. "It's not much, but you should be rewarded for what you did today. The dagger steals life and may help you in your quest. If not, it should bring a good price."

"Thank you, Ileana. I was glad to help, reward or no." She didn't say so, but it was better to get the reward.

"Come. Rest with us tonight and go to the Wyrd Tree in the morning. You've been injured today, and you must be tired."

Amelia chuckled. "I am. I just realized I'm exhausted."

* * *

><p>There was a celebration in the Vale of the Guardians that night, and the sisters almost made Amelia feel like a Wyress herself. They bestowed blessing after blessing upon her, fed her well, and gave her a soft, comfortable bed to sleep in. When she awoke the next morning, she broke her fast with them and thanked them graciously before heading north to the Wyrd Tree.<p>

She met one of the Wyresses standing on a hillock surrounded by vines. She walked up behind her and said, "Excuse me."

The woman jolted and turned around quickly. "What! Who . . . damn it all! The last person who snuck up on me got a sword in the gut for his trouble!"

"I didn't sneak; I just walked up. Ileana sent me to help you. I'm supposed to speak to Wyress Gwen."

"Sorry," said the witch sheepishly. "Old habit. I was in the guard before I joined the Wyrd. I'm Gwen. You're here to help? Lovely. The damn Bloodthorns have taken the Wyrd Tree! I don't know what you can do, but I'm willing to try anything at this point."

"Let's just go about it bit by bit. What's the first thing we can try?"

"Well, we have rituals we can use to try to cleanse the corruption, but we can't get near the tree and the cultists stole our portal stones. We need those stones so that we can get to our enclave without being seen. I would have tried taking the stones back myself, but I'm no fighter anymore."

"I'll get your stones back. I'm assuming the cultists have them?"

"Yes. But not being of the Wyrd, I don't know if the incantation will work for you."

"A Wyrd incantation worked for me yesterday, so it's worth a try. And I do have a bit of magicka myself."

"Yes, I can sense your dragon magic, and something else, something . . . indefinable. Very well. When you get the stones, go to the huts near the tree and open portals for the sisters. The incantation is, '_Lo duf tienvay_.'" She handed Amelia a smooth, round gem. "This is my portal stone. When the others have been taken care of, use mine to port me to the entrance of the tree."

"'_Lo duf tienvay.'_ All right, you stay here for now."

Amelia walked through the glade where Gwen stood and out into a clearing where she could see the Wyrd Tree. She had seen it before, of course—it wasn't all that far from where she grew up—but she could never get over its size. It was at least 300 feet tall and had to be half a mile in diameter, and its roots spread out for miles. The Wyresses lived inside and around the massive tree, and it was usually a place of incredible peace, but now the tree and its environs looked sick. The bark was a dull gray and the leaves had taken on the yellowish hue of the vines that choked its base. The scent of mold and rotten wood permeated the air. The appearance and the aura the tree put out gave her chills.

She engaged several cultists as she circled the tree, fighting with righteous anger at what they had done to this scenic place. She couldn't help wondering if she _had_ become more attuned with the Wyrd the evening before with all the blessings the sisters bestowed on her. She certainly _felt_ like she was part of the tree, and she fought like mad to save it. With only minor injuries, she took down several cultists and retrieved four portal stones. There were four shacks, one at each directional point on the map, and Amelia entered them and used the stones and incantation to open doorways for the Wyresses to come through and work their magic.

She finally used Wyress Gwen's stone and brought her to the door of the tree. "What's next?" she asked.

"Now we need to summon the Guardians. With their help, we can cleanse this place of Angof's foul influence. But his cursed vines choke their totems and prevent them from getting near the tree. The vines around the totems, and the specters that guard them, must be destroyed."

"Where do I find the totems?"

"The totem for the Guardian of the Air is up the hill to the north. The Guardian of the Earth, in the meadow to the east. The Guardian of the Water, in the swamps to the south, near the waterfall."

"I'm off, then."

Amelia trekked up a nearby hill and found the totem in a clearing behind a large rock formation. It was little more than a skull on a stick, but it radiated powerful magic. But the magic was . . . off, choked by the vine wrapped around the totem. She used her flame sword and chopped it at the base, and the vine disintegrated with a screech.

The Guardian of the Air appeared next to her. "Retribution must be swift," she declared, coalescing as she spoke and dissipating during the pause between sentences. "The Wyrd Tree must continue to reach for the sky; you must defeat the Corruption of Air. When I call, come to me and I will protect you."

There was a sudden shriek behind her, and Amelia was yanked backward. She turned around to peer into the face of a specter with empty eyes and a gaping, toothless maw. It was cloaked in rags that flowed around it as if blown by an invisible wind, and a red light glowed around it as well. She swung her blades for all she was worth as the ghost cast life-stealing magic over her.

"The tide turns," said the Guardian. "Come to me!"

Amelia retreated to the shelter of the Guardian, who surrounded her like smoke, healing her and returning the life that was stolen from her. The spirit tried to jerk her back again, but the Guardian coalesced between her and the spirit. But she couldn't fight the spirit from behind the Guardian, so she had to charge forward once more. She finally managed to take the specter down, and she collapsed next to the totem, exhausted.

The Guardian of the Air drifted over to her and waved a hand, and Amelia instantly felt better. "You have done well," said the Guardian, "but there is no time to rest. The totems of earth and water still stand corrupted. Go now."

Amelia nodded and got up, then headed down the hill and east toward the meadow where the earth totem rested. She had to fight a lurcher and a Bloodthorn cultist on the way, but she persevered with grim determination. She was getting really tired of Angof and his Bloodthorns.

The fights at the earth and water totems were much the same as with the air totem, almost as if they were scripted. The Guardians protected her from the specters and healed each injury, and they continued to take away her physical exhaustion, but they couldn't do anything about the mental weariness. She needed to rest, but they had to take the tree first.

After the totems were cleansed, Amelia met Wyress Gwen at the entrance.

"I can feel the oppressive weight of Angof's corruption lifting!" Gwen exclaimed. "I sense the gratitude of the Guardians, but I also sense . . . fear. Angof's vermin are afraid of you. The spirits of corruption have been destroyed, I take it?"

"Yes, they're gone."

"You've done well, Champion. There's one more challenge we have to face."

"The tree."

Gwen nodded. "We cleansed the land around the tree, but the corruption still festers in its heart. Angof's last wraith rests within the tree and won't be banished easily, but the Guardians will help you."

Amelia sighed heavily. "All right. Here I go." She opened the door and stepped into the heart of the Wyrd Tree.

In other circumstances, it would be a place of beauty. The heart of the tree was a great, arched chamber surrounded by huge roots, and light from an unseen source illuminated the chamber. A pool rested in the center, and delicate blue flowers grew on the banks among sacred stones. The Guardians were there, hovering just above the bank. But the vines also encircled the pool and wrapped around the roots, strangling the life out of them and casting deep shadows around the perimeter. The pool was murky and foul smelling, and yellow mist rose from the surface. And in the center floated Angof's wraith. It looked like the other ones, cloaked, glowing red, radiating malice, but it was quite a bit bigger.

"Quickly!" said the Guardian of the Water. "Destroy this foulness! Set the Wyrd Tree free!"

Amelia didn't care how big it was. It was time to end this. She uttered a few words, and ethereal dragon wings burst from her shoulders with a boom, carrying her body through the air toward the spirit. She descended on it with both blades high in the air, stabbing down through its head and knocking it several feet away. It charged back in, and she danced around it, swinging her blades and connecting with its rags time and again. It cast its life-sucking spell on her, though, and she tired quickly.

"To me!" called the Guardian of the Air. Amelia fell back to the Guardian, who protected her from the wraith's onslaught long enough to heal her, and then she went back out.

She knew the only reason her energy held out was the assistance she was getting from the Guardians, but she put it to good use. But there was more. Not only was her energy enhanced, it seemed her skills were as well. Splashing through the water and wielding her swords with a speed and grace she had never known, she hacked away at the wraith, taking one more break to be healed before wearing it down. It dissipated at last into a blast of red light.

But another specter filled the space, this one just a vision, a projection that could only be Angof himself. He was tall, heavily muscled, wearing steel armor and a ragged mask that showed only his eyes. She stepped back to the protection of the Guardian of the Water, but as she looked at this vision, she realized that whatever he was—gravesinger, Reachman, necromancer, tainted by evil—he was just a human. For all his power, he was just a man, and she could defeat him.

"Fool!" Angof snarled, "you have destroyed one of my slaves, but I have so many more."

"And I'll destroy them too," Amelia retorted. "And you."

Without another word, the vision vanished, as did the Guardians. Amelia was alone in the heart of the Wyrd Tree. She watched as the vines retreated from the roots, almost as though they were growing in reverse, and the water began to clear. The scent of blossoms replaced that of mold and rot. Before long, it was as though the corruption had never existed. Amelia felt great relief, and her heart filled with joy.

Gwen stepped through the door and joined her. "It's so beautiful!" she said. "Thanks to you, the Wyrd Tree has been restored."

"I was just glad I could help."

"Thank the Guardians you did! We were losing this battle, but you have won it for us."

All of a sudden, Amelia's euphoria fell away and exhaustion set in. Before she could respond to Wyress Gwen, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed into a dead faint.

* * *

><p>"<em>You've done well, my child. Trust me, and I will guide you."<em>

"_I trust you, my Lady."_

She awoke in one of the huts outside the Wyrd Tree with Wyress Gwen sitting next to her cot. "You're awake," she acknowledged.

"How long was I out?"

"Two days. Your battles took a lot out of you, and you needed rest."

"Thanks for taking care of me," she said, sitting up.

Gwen handed her a bowl of stew. "Eat. Regain your strength."

Amelia took the stew and spooned it into her mouth. It was delicious, and she was ravenous. When she was finished eating, she said, "One of the Guardians said I was touched by the gods, and I've been having dreams. Do you know how I can find out who is guiding me?"

"I'm afraid I do not. The gods do things their own way, and in their own time. If you truly are touched by the gods, take it as a gift, and use it. But don't question it."

"Easier said than done; I'm practical, and visions and disembodied voices don't set well with me. So. What's next?"

"A hunter, Gloria Fausta, came looking for help while you were asleep. I'm ashamed to say we turned her away, but as I said, none of us are fighters. But you might be able to help her."

"Where did she go?"

"Aldcroft. She said werewolves had captured Camlorn and the duke had fled. Chamberlain Weller in Aldcroft should know more."

Amelia sighed. "Couldn't it be somewhere other than Aldcroft?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My hometown. And not a happy place for me. Still, I won't abandon them if they're in need."

"Rest for a day or two; regain your strength before you head out. If you're going to be fighting werewolves, you'll need it."

"Is there any chance you can get a message to Daggerfall? I have a friend who's sort of a werewolf expert."

"Of course."

"Send a message to Kireina Skaarsgard. You can deliver it care of Aresin, Captain of the Guard; he'll know where to find her."

"It will be done today. But for now, you must rest."

Amelia reached out and took Wyress Gwen's hand. "Thank you for everything, Gwen."

"No, Red. Thank _you_."

Gwen left the hut and Amelia lay back on the cot. Aldcroft, ugh. Well, just because she was going there didn't mean she had to see _him._ Who was she kidding? Of course it did. The village wasn't that big. But she had come a long way since the last time she had been there, and she had no reason to be afraid anymore.

If that was so, why did the mere mention of her hometown give her chills?

* * *

><p>Characters and settings c.2014 Zenimax Online Studios<p>

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